: Clockwork : :
by MissBellaVoisin
Summary: Holmes is called upon to find escaped mental patient, Susannah Clark. As pieces of the girls life unfold in the most obscure way, Holmes realizes there is more to this girl than meets the eye. Romance/Mystery. HOLMES/OC
1. An Unusual Request

**So, here I am! With a different kind of story this time. Never have I written something like this, so go easy on me. It's a little slow to start, but it's only because I have to set the story. Inspiration? RDJ of course ;P Anyway, no point doing a disclaimer since I obviously haven't created any characters... except Dr. Voisin & Susannah Clark. Enjoy =]**

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: :Clockwork: :

**Chapter One: An Unusual Request**

It wasn't much of a night to say the least; a strong storm was raging its full force down upon the dark and damp streets of London and people everywhere were doing their best to keep out of it. Even the usual beggars and wenches kept off the streets tonight. It was odd but not unusual on a night such as this.

Now, whilst most citizens were tucked up in their warm beds, or down at the local taverns, one was not. Again, odd but not unusual either, except for the manner in which the man arrived at Baker Street to visit none other than Sir Sherlock Holmes.

Holmes was sitting in his usual chair by the window, although not facing the world outside it, seemingly oblivious to the storm which was raging against his window. He did not appear to hear the hard tapping at the door either. Or the bell, as its rope was pulled so it could ring out its sweet tinkle sound.  
The door to his quarters opened but with the racket outside, one would never hear it. But in an instant, Holmes rose from his chair.

"Good evening, Doctor", he said with a wave of his hand, gesturing for the stranger to have a seat by the fire.

"How did you know I was a doctor?" the man asked, standing in the doorway hesitantly for a moment.

"My dear fellow, my colleague is a doctor. You all move in a remarkably quiet yet stiff manner. I also saw the carriage in which you took to get here; that was what gave you away. See these mirrors?" He said, motioning to the large one opposite Holmes' chair. "From the angle in which I sit, and the position of which this mirror is place, I am able to get quite a clear view to the world outside. I duly noted that your carriage bared the words _**'St. Ive's Mental Asylum'**_. Finally come to take me away have you?" Holmes finished with a hint of amusement.

The doctor looked at Holmes with a look of disbelief. "Well, yes, I am a doctor. Dr. Ferdinand Voisin, Mr. Holmes", he said, taking off his glove to shake his hand. Holmes did so pleasantly but abruptly and returned to his seat. The doctor took his seat in which he was offered.

There was a pause in which Holmes noted the doctors' appearance. He was a very tall man and carried himself well. Though his hair and features were still handsome, his face showed the lines of age and the roots of his hair were hinting a slight silver colour. Judging by the finely tailor cut clothing which he wore; he was a well to do man money wise. He smiled at Holmes whilst he looked around the room.

"Quite a… interesting set up you have here, Holmes", he said, inwardly smirking to himself.

Without beating around the bush, Holmes cut to the chase. "What brings you here on such a horrid evening, doctor?".

"Ah, yes… I wish it could be on better terms… quiet embarrassing really, what has happened…"

Whilst the doctor travelled off I a mumble jumble of his own thoughts and words, Holmes relaxed into his chair a little more, closing his eyes.

"I come to you regrettably, for assistance, Mr. Holmes. You see… well, it's quite a blunder caused right under my very nose. I saw to the people involved-"

"What is it exactly, Doctor?" Holmes said, opening one eye slightly, wishing the doctor would get on with it already.

"One of my patients has managed to escape from the asylum", he said, looking down for the moment, his expression an unreadable one. He continued onwards. "Her name is Miss Susannah Clark. A young girl who's been at the asylum for quite some time now. She escaped two nights ago and since then, we've had teams dispatched to find and return her but alas, to no avail".

"And you want me to bring the girl back?" Holmes said, raising an eyebrow, knowing there was more to this case than meets the eye. But Voisin gave nothing away in his tone, nor his expression. Even his body language was very much the same as it was when he first entered the room.

"Yes, exactly that. Anything you wish to assist you we shall do our best to provide. You will also be paid a rather generous sum upon the return of the girl. And expenses in the mean time shall be covered", he said, handing Holmes papers from the breast pocket of his coat.

Holmes flicked through it, then looked back to the doctor. "A rather… generous sum indeed. Just to return a mere girl?" he said, lightly pressing the doctor for more information.

"Yes, exactly that", he said, not giving any more information.

"I see. Well… I have a few cases I am working on… but since you came out in such weather and have spiked my curiosity, consider the girl found".

"Excellent", said Dr. Voisin rising to his feet, fixing his coat before heading towards the door. "It's been a pleasure to meet the infamous Sherlock Holmes. I bid you-"

Holmes cut him off. "Excuse me, dear sir. But, you said the girl escaped. I am to understand that the asylum is under high security?"

"Oh indeed it is. Especially patients like Miss Clark. She is regarded as a threat to society and herself and for that reason, she's a highly dangerous and therefore highly guarded patient".

"And yet she escaped?", said Holmes with a raised eyebrow.

"It seems so. And it's my duty as her doctor and one of the founders to bring her back to the asylum. Our reputation is on the line… and so is mine".

"Indeed..."

There was a very awkward pause in which the men both stared at each other. Holmes had a strange feeling about this man. Something he noted in his thoughts to investigate further.

"Will that be all?" Dr. Voisin said, rocking on his heels ever so slightly. Holmes saw this slight movement and knew that the doctor felt uncomfortable being in his presence.

"Yes sir. That is all… oh, I trust I shall be able to have free reign of the Asylum?", Holmes threw in casually.

Voisin's eyes shifted for a mere moment, a cold feeling which Holmes could not entirely pick up on. But he knew he got to the man, if only for a moment. "Of course, anything you desire. I shall be on my way now. A very good evening to you, Sir Holmes".

And with a tip of his hat, he was out the door and off into the night. Holmes watched as he entered his carriage and it took off into the dark streets of London. The storm, still raging on; yet an even more complex one raged on in the man's mind.

Holmes couldn't help but wonder about the doctor. Surely, it seemed there was more behind his seemingly normal motive of finding the girl. There had to be something more to her than that. Something that made her most important to find. Something so important that the good doctor would seek Holmes' assistance on a night such as this…

It was clear Holmes had a lot more to find out, seeing as this Voisin character seemed a tough one to crack. But as there could be little headway made at this time of night, he decided to return to his chambers and attempt to get some rest. First thing tomorrow, he would dive into this unusual request...

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**Okay so... there you have it! Part one =] It's not very interesting at the moment, but it'll come. The story just needs to be set after all. Please read/review =]**


	2. Welcome To St Ive's

****

So, here is chapter two. Keep in mind that this is a mystery as well as a romance ;] So I'm just setting it up for both of that. I know where this story is going, I only hope you enjoy it. Thanks for the reviews/faves & reads so far! Here is part two!

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**Chapter Two: Welcome To St. Ive's**

Come early next morning, the storm had died down. However, the typical haze and dew of a London morning still lingered fresh in the air. It was through this that John Watson walked, right up to the door of Holmes' quarters. He didn't even get his hand to the door to knock before it flew open scaring the daylights out of Watson.

"Good lord Holmes, what are you- Holmes, where did you get clothes like that?" he said, eyeing the man skeptically.

"I've always had these, I've just never had to wear them", he said, adjusting his tie, not looking at Watson. Holmes was dressed much like the good doctor from the previous night and had on him, a medical ID.

"Holmes… you can't possibly… not, I won't allow it!" Watson said, glaring at the ID card.

"Duly noted. Now come along, we don't have much time on our hands", said Holmes, calling a carriage.

"Wait, what? Where are we going? Holmes, what the deuces are you on about?"

"St. Ives. I'll fill you in on the way, or later if you'd rather stand in the street as you are"

With a heavy sigh, Watson entered the carriage after Holmes with a heavy sigh. His fingertips pressed his temples ever so slightly. He already knew this was going to be a long day.

* * *

"If Dr. Voisin said you could have free reign of the asylum, then why on earth are you pretending to be someone that you are not?" Watson said with a raised eyebrow in Holmes' direction.

"Simple. The look in his eyes told me last night he wasn't happy with me doing so. Despite the fact he said yes it was clear he was calculating about how much of this 'free reign' I actually am able to receive. Thus I figured it was only logical for logics sake to come in disguise as a doctor. That way, I would have unlimited access to all areas of the asylum, but it's not really that I'm interested in…"

"What are you interested in then?" Watson said, unable to fathom the man's thoughts. He wasn't sure if he wanted to either.

"The patients".

With a sudden jolt, Watson sat upright. The carriage had pulled to a sharp halt at the entrance gate to St. Ives Mental Asylum. It was quite a magnificent building, a huge 4 story limestone structure, with vast yards and flora all around. But despite its green lawns and colourful flower arrangements, nothing could take away the dead air of the place. It was just so cold, so hollow. Shadow like.

"So gray isn't it, Holmes. Holmes?" Watson said, but the man had already begun walking up the cobblestone path towards the building.

"Once we are in here, I am John Watson", Holmes said a-matter-of-factly, looking sharp and determined.

"WHAT? But…", Watson made a snatch for the ID which Holmes had on him. Sure enough, the medical ID was a replica of his own, just with Holmes' picture.

"I will NOT allow this Holmes! This is breeching and going against everything I stand for as a doctor! I could be… you could be ruined for this! The scandals, could you even imagine?"

Holmes snatched the ID back. "Of course, but you're you, and I'm… you. Once we're in here of course".

"What is the point in that?" Watson asked, his anger lingering at the edge of his words.

"Because that way, you and I can be in two places at once, if you catch my drift".

* * *

Watson couldn't believe he was going along with this. Everything was on the line now if they got caught. Still, at the end of the day, he had to trust Holmes' judgment, because he saw what others didn't. He knew what others couldn't know. He always came through, in the end and so he trusted him. As a colleague; but also a friend.

Of course, neither man was keen to admit this, but Watson entered through the doors as any visitor does, stated that he was here to see Dr. Voisin and was shown to his office accordingly. This was all part of Holmes' plan. They both were in the hospital as the same man, except Holmes snuck in through an open window. Because Watson had already checked in, all Holmes had to do was flash the ID card and he should hopefully be on his way, without a fuss.

Watson's job was to keep Dr. Voisin busy and distract him (and hopefully draw some kind of information out of him), whilst Holmes' job as Watson, was to visit patients involved with Miss Clark and see what they have to say.

Holmes made his rounds, clipboard in hand pretending to check things off every so often as to avoid suspicion. From the unusually slim case file on Miss Clark, he was able to find out which room which she resided in. So he took the stairs up to floor three to check it out.

This was the floor for the most dangerous patients. As he entered it, he was met with narrow hallways, rooms on each side with heavy padlocked doors. Shrill screams and cries echoed throughout this floor and met Holmes' ears. He wasn't fazed and took the left corridor; which was where the female patients resided.

Miss Clark's former room was 23C. The door was unlocked so he entered it. It was a small, square room. Padded walls and a bed were the only items here so it seemed, and a square window which was barred up to let the dismal London light twinkle through. The iron around the bed too, was also padded so patients wouldn't hurt themselves on it. There was no mattress on the bed either; it must have been taken out for cleaning he expected. He walked around the small room until something caught his eye; under the padded sheets around the iron of the bed, was a shadow of something.

Holmes took out his knife and cut through it swiftly and out fell-

"A pocket-watch?" he said, as he turned over the watch, the cool silver touching his warm hands.  
"Why would a something like a pocket-watch be hidden here?"

It seemed most peculiar, so he pocketed the watch and at that very moment, a girl walked into the room. A patient obviously, considering the stained white robes which she was wearing. She was a young girl, no older than twenty four he thought.

"Good morning, miss", He said, forcing a smile onto his face. She didn't look up at him, instead she shadowed her eyes with her long blonde hair, acting like a security blanket or wall between the two. She began to rock back and fourth on her feel uncontrollably.

"Do you need some help?" he offered, taking a small step closer. The girl made a sound that an owl would make.

Holmes said nothing and for a while the two just stood there, and the girl rocked about. As Holmes took another step forward, the girls head shot up. The pupils of her eyes were almost white; she was blind.

"Are you a new doctor?" She said, her voice harsh and raspy.

"That I am. Dr. Watson. I'm here to try and find out about a girl who stayed here. In this very room. Miss Susannah Clark. Do you… know anything about the girl?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Maybe", she said, her arms cradling herself, as if she were cold.

"Would you like to share?"

"Clocks"

"Excuse me?"

"Clocks", the girl repeated, then turned to leave. "That's how she escaped. Clocks".

Holmes pressed on, but the girl had left as quickly as she came, and Holmes knew that pressing her might make her talk… to others. And it was something he could not afford right now.

* * *

"Ah, Dr. Watson! I've read many of your reports! I've actually been meaning to write you for your advice on a few issues!" exclaimed Dr. Voisin, motioning for Watson to take a seat.

"Thank you sir, and you too. After all, you own this fine institution. I've heard many stories of your success rates with patients", he said, shaking his hand.

"Ah, yes… sadly not all turn out the way you want it to. But I guess some people really can't be saved. Pity but such is life hey Watson?" The doctor said, a little too good humouredly.

"Quite…", Watson said, looking around the room. Nothing strange that met his eye here, except for a square shape on the floor which was darker than the rest of it. Something had been moved from there recently, he supposed.

"So my good fellow, what brings you here?" Dr. Voisin said, clasping his hands together with a smile.

"Oh yes… well I-"

"Blast, sorry, what's the time sir?" He asked cutting Watson off. "My clock's mechanism broke a few days ago, and we had it taken away for repairs. And then I forgot my watch this morning… not the greatest thing to do…" he said trailing off.

"Ah, shame that. It's almost thirty minutes past eleven am".

"Already!?" Voisin exclaimed, shooting up from his chair. "I'm sorry to cut this short, but I've got a meeting to attend too. Perhaps we could catch up at a later date?" he asked, motioning for the door.

"Certainly sir, I shan't keep you", said Watson, standing too.

"Excellent. Drop by any time you're like. I live here most days. Guess that says something about me", Voisin said, laughing a little at his dry joke. Watson barely managed to crack a smile. Both doctors head in opposite directions down the hall. Watson decided he would wait outside for Holmes to return.

* * *

Holmes had little success talking to some of the patients. A few here and there recounted bizarre stories about Miss Clark. One screamed in agony when he mentioned her name. The woman told Holmes' that Miss Clark was the daughter of the devil. A demon child.

Another woman, in her sixties at least, told Holmes' the girl was a witch and one night, she saw her sleeping on the ceiling of her room.

Holmes got very little out of these women except stories like these. But the thing that kept playing in his mind as he and Watson left the asylum to exchange what little they found out, was the pocket-watch and the blonde girls word about clocks.

After all, how would a girl escape using a clock?

With little information about the girl, Holmes' decided it was time to take a trip to the Records House…

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**I hope this has kept you interested thus far. New chapter up soon =] Read&Review or whatever you like :]**


	3. Documents

**Wow 0.o People reviewed! This is crazy XD. You are all lovely =3 the more reviews, the more I'm pushed to write. You know how it goes ;P. To ****Jael73: yes, you'll get your romance ;P  
And to the mysterious _Lilly_: Your review has been my favourite ;D This chapter is written a little different towards the end, but you'll see why. Enjoy! :)**

**Chapter Three: Documents**

"The Records House… really Holmes, you may have gotten lucky with your charade at St. Ives, but I highly doubt you'll be able to sneak into the records house undetected", Watson said, a little too matter-of-factly like for Holmes' liking.

Holmes just waved away his words, "Now now, my dear fellow. The probability of my plan working is almost certain. In fact, I'd say it has a 98.5% chance of success", he said, as the carriage pulled to a stop in the street, opposite the records house. And what a gloomy house it was. It was a large, skinny complex. Its large stone pillars were high and chipped, and the windows were in dire need of a scrub.

Watson rolled his eyes. "What is this so called 'plan' then?"

"Simple", Holmes said, taking off his jacket. He turned it inside out then put it back on again. It was an exact replica of a policeman's one this side.

"Dear god, where do you get these things from?", Watson said, amused and curious in spite of himself. Holmes just winked and pulled a matching hat from the suitcase in which he carried. "Always expect the unexpected. It's good to be prepared for anything Watson, you'd do well to remember that. Anyways, you're a doctor. I'm Police Inspector…", Holmes paused for a moment, taking out his badge and reading it. "Inspector Cornelius Gordon"

"Did you STEAL that Holmes?" Watson exclaimed as they stepped out of the carriage, paying the driver before he tipped his hat and took off down the cobble stoned street.

"Heavens no! I'm merely borrowing it, now no more questions until we're inside please", he said as both me walked up the stone steps and into the building.

The inside was just as dreary as the outside. It was cold and had a damp smell about it. The wallpaper was faded and was tearing at the corners. A man at the service counter looked up as they walked over.

"Who might you be?" he said in his drawl of a voice. Clearly from a lower part of London from the way his accent sounded.

"I am Police Inspector Gordon, and this is one of the doctors who work for our investigation team, Dr. Watson", Holmes said in a very formal voice, tipping his hat slightly to shade his face some more.

The mans eyebrows knit together as he looked from man to man. " 'Spector Gordon you says?"

"Indeed".

"I know a Gordon", he said, eyeing Holmes skeptically. Watson closed his eyes and braced for it. They were already discovered.

"You sure lost that belly there 'aven't ya, Gordon?" he said with a laugh.

"Yes well… you know how it is. Kids and the wife keeping you busy"

"Aye", the man said, winking and tapping his nose. "I sure do, anyways, mustn't keep ya's waiting. Off you go sir, you know where to go. I'll be here if you need anything"

"Thank you sir", Holmes said and with a smile, he and Watson walked onwards.

"I can't believe it…", Watson said under his breath as they walked into a large circular room with many shelves reaching very high peaks. On these shelves were boxes of files. Now their job was to find the files about their leading lady.

"Believe what?", Holmes said, as the two men headed towards the section for females, letter C.

"That it worked. The incompetence of that man. Honestly"

Holmes was only half listening when he stumbled upon a large box labeled "CLARK" in thick black, bold letters.

"Watson, over here", he said, motioning for the man to come forward. As they opened the box, they discovered that it was for every female person with the last name 'Clark'. There seemed to be quite a few. So both took the box over to a nearby table, split it in half and began to search through the documents.

Eventually, they found hers, placed the others back in the box. Just as they were about to search it, the doors opened and in walked the man from the service desk. Followed by a police officer.

Holmes placed the file inside his jacket and stood to attention as the room went silent for a moment before the man from the service counter spoke.

"Didn't really think that Gordon could lose so much weight", he said, pondering the thought very, very seriously.

The real Gordon was a rather large, very round man with a curly moustache. He looked as it were, quite angry by that statement.

"Just HOW many times have I visited the Records House, Johnson?" he said, glaring at the man.

"Uhh… Well gee, I don't know sir. That is what the log book be for sir!", he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The real Gordon smacked his forehead.

"No you imbecile. Hardly anyone comes to the Records House. One simply can't just walk INTO the Records House you know-"

As a battle or words marched out between both men, Holmes and Watson managed to sneak around the back of some shelves and out the alley way entrance unnoticed. They quickly hailed a carriage and sped off in the direction of Baker Street.

"HOLMES! I swear, never again Holmes. This is twice in one day. Twice where we have breeched numerous amounts of laws here. Have you ever even stopped to comprehend what you do half the time?" Watson exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"Of course I do. No detail is to go unplanned when planning a plan that doesn't sound workable. But it did work, we got the files and that is the main thing", Holmes said.

"I want to go home now, Holmes. I promised my wife I'd take her out to dinner tonight", Watson said, staring out the window, as he absentmindedly touched the wedding band on his finger.

Holmes just nodded and the carriage dropped him off. "I'll stop by tomorrow to share your findings", he said as he stepped out, looking at the ground rather awkwardly, feeling embarrassed by his outburst.

"I'd expect nothing less", Holmes said with a smile. And with a tip of the hat, Holmes was off to his own humble abode.

* * *

A clock chimed from somewhere in the house but Holmes wasn't paying much attention. Instead, he was in his quarters. Candles and fire were ablaze and the flames created a peaceful light around him. It danced off the walls lightly. Sprawled on the floor, were the contents of the folder which he had taken from the Records House earlier that day and Holmes sat on the floor, in the middle of it all.

He had been flicking through the documents for quite some time now. And it became apparent that there was a lot more to this girl than Holmes first thought. Out of the numerous documents, a few stood out amongst the rest; all for very different reasons.

**Name: (Miss) Susannah Clark  
Date Of Birth: ?/?/1869  
Sex: Female  
Administrator: Mrs. Mary Adams  
**  
**Admittance: **Miss Susannah Clark was bought to Kingston's Orphanage when she was seven years old. Left at the doorstep one night, the local milkman was the one to ring the doorbell. Was admitted and sent straight to bed accordingly.

**Additional Notes:** Susannah seems to not know how she came to be at the Orphanage. When asked if her parents left her here, she merely sat and stared, as if she was looking at something so far out of reach. We searched the Records House but there were no records of anyone with the last name 'Clark' with a daughter fitting her description. She hadn't appeared to run away either. Follow up?

**Additional Notes Continued:** Susannah doesn't appear to be getting along with the other girls. She sits alone at meal times and doesn't contribute to discussions or work with the other girls. She appears to be a rather ordinary girl. A family came today to greet the children in hopes of finding a daughter. Whilst the other girls spent many a time getting ready to look and act their best, Susannah slouched in the corner; glaring very hard at one of the girls the couple seemed to show a particular interest in.

**Additional Notes Cont.:** Miss Jane Campbell was chosen by the visiting family recently. Upon the day of the pick up, the girls stated that she was teasing Susannah about her 'plain' ways. Susannah sat there as the other girls joined in. A cleaner, Miss Macintyre, was present to report this as well.

She tried to get the girls to leave Miss Clark alone. Miss Clark stared up at the chandelier above Miss Campbell the whole time the teasing was going on. It gradually got worse. And as it did, Susannah's glare hardened at it. Suddenly there was a sharp cracking sound and the chandelier came crashing down… Screams echoed throughout…

* * *

Holmes set the orphanage documents aside to the left. Upon flipping one over, he found a small note clipped onto the back of it.

"_My Memories: By Susannah Clark, (Age 12)_

_One day I woke up in front of a large building which housed the unwanted children. I was given a bed and some clothes. The girls there don't like me, so sometimes when we play sport, I go for walks down by the docks. I made friends with a bird there. He looks just like the one in the clock. Sometimes I sit by that clock for hours, waiting for him to come coo-coo-ing out of his little wooden house. I wish I lived in a place like that._

_Not so long ago, a girl died. I didn't like her anyway, but I read that you shouldn't speak ill of the departed so I won't. She teased me a lot though and was a horrid girl. I remember looking up and seeing the chandelier on the ceiling. I wanted something bad to happen to her. The other girls gathered and kept teasing and teasing and teasing me. And it started to shake. Then it fell._

_There was a lot of screaming and her face looked all bent and out of shape. A very red liquid came from her mouth. No one was teasing me anymore. I felt happy._

_Later I-"_

* * *

But the rest of her story, it seemed, had been torn straight off. This certainly was an important piece of information but how, Holmes wasn't entirely sure yet. But he had gained some important facts from her account.

The final document which Holmes deemed of importance was some notations from observations done by that of Dr. Ferdinand Voisin.

_**November 12**__**th**__**, 1873,**_

Miss Clark has been here for almost two months now. Upon arrival, the girl has been well behaved. However, she also hasn't spoken a word to any of the staff, including myself, and nor has she made any contact with the other inmates. Today will be her first interview session with myself. Hopefully I'll be able to find out something from this mysterious girl they label 'the witch'.

_**November 14**__**th**__**, 1873,**_

The girl talks! And she talks absolute nonsense. Things of birds in clocks and friends that be shadows. When I asked her about claims others made on her, she shut up like a clam and stared hard at me for quite some time. Paranoia? Perhaps, further investigations to be noted.

_**December 1**__**st**__**, 1873,**_

This afternoon at lunch, Miss Clark apparently attacked another inmate by cutting her with a dinner knife. No one knows how Miss Clark came in possession of the knife as inmates are forbidden to eat with anything sharp. When she was thrown into isolation and later spoken to, she claimed that 'it wasn't her', although plenty a people saw it with their own eyes. I have another session with the girl.  
Now we can add violence and denial to the list…

_**December 3**__**rd**__**, 1873,**_

I had a thought recently after reading a reverse psychology study, that the same thing can also be applied to some medications. It is my personal medical opinion that the oddities of Miss Clark may indeed be cured by a trail of various medications. Since many a time she appears to be having an out of body, out of mind experience with the gibberish in which she speaks, I am considering a trail of a few things to see if will alter her state of mind.

* * *

Holmes sat in disbelief. The fact that a doctor can trail such a thing on a patient… this was something to further question Watson about. Also, it seemed, he needed to have a few more words with Dr. Voisin.

With a yawn, Holmes stretched and stood up, leaving the files on the floor for the morning. He moved the documents he had selected of importance, to his desk, leaving a photo of the girl on the top.

On the back, in an elegant hand, it had the words, "Susannah Clark, 17 years".

This meant it was a recent photo, as the girl was now 19 he supposed, depending on when her birthday was. He flipped it back over and studied her face.

She was a beautiful girl, even in the damaged black and white photo with its coffee stained ring in the corner. She wasn't smiling but it looked like she was more playfully smirking. Her skin was clear, and her lips full. Her dark hair which waved and curled rested past her shoulders comfortably.

But the thing that grabbed Holmes attention the most was the girls eyes. As big and beautiful as they were, they too, looked as though she was staring intently at something. So much that if Holmes looked hard enough, he was almost certain, if even for a split second, he could see something shine in them.

"I better watch myself or I'll be the next inmate", he muttered, shaking his head and heading off to his chambers for another restless night's sleep… Tomorrow, it was time to take a trip into Miss Clarks world...

* * *

**There we have part three. I'll update as soon as I can. I really hope you're all still interested and enjoying it so far :) Again, there is romance =P. But this is also a mystery; so don't give up hope yet! Read/Fave/Review do whatever you guys like. Enjoy! :)**


	4. Miss Doyle

**Hello everyone! Here is the next installment. Thanks again for the reviews and reads! It makes me all :D inside haha. Just as a side-note: I think you guys should go check out my friend, Muzzled's new story! And to Lilly: I wish you had an account then I could message you back XD. Sorry this chapter isn't very long, but I just wanted to get it out there. ^_^**

**And now, onwards! :)**

**

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****Chapter Four: Miss Doyle**

Holmes was wandering down a hallway. A hallway full of clocks of all different shapes, sizes and different times showing on their faces. The tick-tick-tocking of their little hands as they turned echoed throughout the hallway. Holmes felt like he had been indeed, walking for eternity and didn't seem to be getting any further. He decided to lie down for just a moment, to rest his legs.

When he looked up towards the ceiling, a girl stared back at him. Her beautiful hair was fanned out around her whilst her ruby red lips turned into a smile. 'Why is she on the ceiling?' he thought, but that thought was only in his mind for a moment, that's when he realized…

"Miss Clark? It surely is you", he said, thinking back to the photo of the girl. She just smiled and seemed to be floating gently down, so close to him that her body stopped only inches from his.

Holmes felt strange. Things he wanted to say, but he couldn't find the words. There she was, the girl he had been searching for. Above him, as it were. He had an impulse to reach out and brush the hair back from her eyes. To touch her skin just to see if such beauty was real.

_The girl smiled and her lips parted to speak, barely inches from his…_

"HOLMES! For god's sake man, would you wake up already?"

Holmes shot up immediately. His head was spinning and it took him a few moments to realize that Watson was standing at the edge of his bed with a slightly frustrated look on his face, his brows knitting together.

"Honestly, I felt quite the fool trying to wake you up! I've been shouting at you for a good five minutes or so!"

Holmes just stared as Watson as he walked over and handed him a tray with a glass of milk and a plate of toast on it.

"You were thrashing about quite a bit. Strange dreams I take it?"

Holmes just shook his head. He felt it was best to… keep this information a secret for now. Especially the part about the girl's voice sounding like Watson's. He shivered at the thought.

"What are you doing here at such an hour?" Holmes said, taking a bite from the toast.

"Hour? It's almost noon Holmes! Honestly, I just walked through your study. Files everywhere... so, are you going to fill me in?"

As Holmes finished his belated breakfast off, he told Watson of his findings and asked about Dr. Voisin.

"Well… trailing medications on patients that aren't certified yet is a dangerous and costly, risky procedure. But it's not an uncommon practice. I for one am against it. But Dr. Voisin is a much respected doctor. And an experienced one too".

"That doesn't make it right though", Holmes said, as he got out of bed, placing the tray on his bedside table.

"It doesn't, but it doesn't make it wrong either".

"Indeed. Well, I've got some more investigating to do", Holmes said, as he threw his jacket on and ran his fingers through his messy hair in an attempt to comb it back. It didn't work however.

"So, I shall see you later I expect. Thanks for the toast… it was a little burned though", and with a wave, Holmes was out the door leaving behind a slightly confused and annoyed Watson.

* * *

It was a surprisingly beautiful day out for once in London, so Holmes decided that he might take a walk. That walk eventually lead him to the Kingston's Orphanage for girls. As it was lunch time, the young girls were out in the grounds playing games. Swinging on the rusty swing set, running about without a care in the world.  
He opened the gate and walked through the grounds up to the doors of the orphanage. There was a young lady sitting on those stairs, with young girls sitting on the ground around her in a circle, staring at her in awe. As Holmes drew closer, he heard the young lady telling the children a story.

Suddenly, the girls gasped at something the lady said. One girl raised her hand, "What happened to her Miss Doyle? Won't you tell us?"

Everyone stared at Miss Doyle in silence. She opened her mouth to speak when she noticed Holmes walking closer.

"You shall find out… tomorrow children".

The children groaned at this. "But don't worry! You shall find out about Lady Sarina's adventures! And maybe, just maybe, I'll bring treats with me. We can make a little picnic out of it!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together.

"Oh! Just like she did when she met the wizard in the forest!" One girl exclaimed excitedly.

"Yes! Exactly like that. Who knows, maybe the wizard will show up for us!"

The children laughed happily and all ran off leaving Holmes with Miss Doyle.

"Good day sir", she smiled up at him, brushing some dirt from her skirts. "What brings you here?"

"Good day, I am Sherlock Holmes. I'm actually just here to… take a look around. Investigation you see. If that is indeed alright my lady…"

"Miss Doyle", she said with a smile, moving over on the step so he could take a seat next to her. "I'd love to show you about, but I cannot until classes begin. I'm on lunch duty, and the other teachers have gone out today for theirs".

"That is certainly alright", he said, taking a seat next to the girl.

She had the most bizarre hair style on a girl he had seen in quite some time. It was just above her shoulders, short, black and choppy. Her eyes were indeed, very beautiful ones, when he looked at them.

They sat in silence for a moment, with Miss Doyle looking content staring out over the yard.

"So… the real Sherlock Holmes hey?" the girl said, the corner of her mouth turning up into the smallest smirk. "I'm quite curious as to why you're here. Are you looking for a daughter? Because if you're looking for someone to be an heir, young Katherine has the wits and smarts about her to solve a good mystery or two-"

"No, its not that. I'm here because I'm trying to find a girl… a girl who once lived here many years ago".

"And who might that be?" she asked, ruffling her hair a little.

"Her name is Miss Susannah Clark".

The girl turned and blinked a few times. "Susannah! Oh why, I grew up with the girl! We're the same age you know".

"Then you'd know quite a lot about her I assume?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. This could be the lead he had been searching for. Miss Doyle's eyes returned back to the children.

"Indeed I do, sir. But… well, Susannah was a very… she was a strange girl to say the least. Maybe sir, you should tell me what you know? That way, I won't repeat the information which you already have".

And so Holmes did so. Miss Doyle nodded, but made no input until right the very end.

"I know most everyone thinks the girl is crazy. But she's not. She had a gift. But she wasn't crazy. And she didn't kill that girl. I don't know what did. But it wasn't her. Not the real Susannah".

"What do you mean by that statement?" Holmes asked, intrigued now.

"I mean that she was... Susannah, she saw things. _Things that others didn't._ She was often punished for it even. But she-"

She was cut off as the bell inside rung out across the yards. The girls all ran off in different directions and the two stood up and moved out of the way of the doors so the girls could all move inside the building. "Look, I really want to help, but you won't find anything here. All of Miss Clark's possessions have been taken or burned when she left us. I have to return to my duties now… but… perhaps we can meet again later?", a light blush spread across the girls cheeks.

"Of course, Miss Doyle, if it's not too much trouble"

"Oh, none at all sir. In fact, It's not often when I have company for dinner. How about Swindle's Tavern tonight? Around 8 o'clock?", she said, diverting her gaze to her feet.

"It would be an honor", Holmes said, taking the girls hand in his and pressing his lips to it lightly. "I shall be by then".

Miss Doyle quickly withdrew her hand and held it in her other. "I must go now. I-good day, Sir Holmes", she said with a nod and turned to walk up the stone steps.

"Good day, Miss", he said, and with a tip of his hat, as he too, turned to leave.

* * *

Holmes walked the streets of London for a while, deep in thought, until he realized two things. One was that he really hadn't gotten any information today, which was what he set out to do. The second was that he was meeting a lady for dinner in the evening. He hadn't had dinner out in such a long time because, being social really wasn't something he took to. The people, the setting, the food. Everything was overdone and fake. But this was just at a simple Tavern. It shouldn't be that bad. He wondered if he would find out anything useful tonight. After all, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how easily Miss Doyle had managed to get Holmes to say very much with saying very little about Miss Clark herself. Still, with no new leads, this seemed like the only chance he had.

* * *

**Read&Review&Fave or whatever. Hurray! _Holmes is going on a date ;P_. I for one, think the man needs it ;)**


	5. Swindle's Tavern

**So obviously, I haven't updated for a while. Life's been busy. I've just moved houses so I haven't had the time to write. Too all the readers, thanks so much :D  
On another note, there's been some questions or things bought to my attention in some of the reviews you've left. I'm not going to reply individually because I don't have the time. However, once I'm finished with this story, I will make some footnotes, individually addressing each viewer and hopefully answering your question or… whatever ^_^. Also, again, sorry if my spelling isn't too brilliant; I don't have anyone to check my chapters for me =p…. and I'm not that great.  
This chapter is weird, but it'll fit in the end. I hope you enjoy it. I don't know if I should up the rating or not ;P Onwards!**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Swindle's Tavern**

Swindle's Tavern was a typical lower-class bar tucked away in one of London's many backstreets. It was one of those places that, unless you knew it was there you'd never notice it even existed, despite the fact it was three stories high. Holmes entered the bar, his eyes scouting for the girl he had met earlier that day.

He hadn't been able to think of anything else but her, and just how strange their encounter really was. He found out next to nothing about Miss Clark, and as he rattled his brain, he realized he didn't even know what Miss Doyle's first name was. As he looked over his shoulder at the dimly-lit streets around him, he drew breath, and stepped inside.

A bell tinkled as he opened the door to reveal the tavern. The sound of violins and fiddle's met the man's ears. He looked to the stage in one of the corners near one of the many fires. A band was playing, and people were dancing away in front of it. Men were sitting at tables playing cards and betting away their days working wages, others singing and swinging their glasses around merrily at the bar counter.

In another corner, half in the shadows near a lonely but roaring fire, sat a girl. He walked over to her.

"Good evening, Miss Doyle", Holmes said, bowing ever so slightly.

The girl raised her head and smiled. "Evening there, Mr. Holmes. I'm glad you decided to join me".

"Now now, I wouldn't be much of a gentlemen to refuse the company of a young lady now would I?", he said, taking the only other spare seat next to her. He turned it a little so he could see her properly.

For a moment the two said nothing. Holmes watched her, but her gaze was out over the patrons of the tavern. She looked very different tonight. Her hair was still short and choppy. But it was in a more neater way. The ends were curled just right. Her lips were painted in a deep crimson red, which matched the flowing red dress she was wearing. She smiled warmly.

"So… no beating around the bush I guess", she said, twirling her hair round her finger absentmindedly.

Holmes looked at her as she continued. "It'd be nice for someone to ask me here once in a while. But I guess you're here now, and for a reason too".

Holmes didn't really know what to say. Of all the things he was skilled in, the opposite sex wasn't one of them. So he did the first thing that came to mind.

"Would you like me to buy you a drink, Miss Doyle?"

"Why, that'd be lovely, Mr. Holmes. And please, no need to be so formal. Call me Scarlett".

"It would be a pleasure, Scarlett. I'll return shortly".

Holmes got up and ordered whisky for himself, and a nicer drink for the girl. At least he found out one thing so far; her name was Scarlett. When he returned with the drinks, Scarlett was sitting on the table edge, swinging her legs back and forth as a child does. Her hands lightly touched his as she took the glasses from him, setting his aside. She nodded with a smile and took a sip from her own. "Thank you".

"Pleasure", he said, sitting on the table next to her. No need for formalities after all.  
The music played on and the people around them danced.

"Do you dance, sir?" she asked, her legs still swinging slowly back and forth.

"From time to time, I suppose…", he said, doing his best to look uninterested and hoping she wasn't going to ask him to dance.

"Hmm… so, what would you like to know?"

Finally; it seemed like he was about to make some headway. "You said you grew up with Miss Clark. How close exactly were you both?", he asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Close for a while. I mean, especially when we were younger. Then something happened one day…"

"You mean, the chandelier incident?"

"Y-yes. People treated her differently after that. Not the teasing, that stopped. The girls pretended she didn't exist. And then well, we sort of stopped talking. I tried to stand by her but… There was always more to Susannah than first met the eye. Something strange… something out of this world".

"You mean, something supernatural?"

"Yes, so it seemed anyways. The other girls before that incident used to tease her and called her 'The Witch'. That poor girl…", Scarlett said, trailing off, her dark eyes turning back to the crowd as she took another sip from her drink.

"It however, wasn't the first time Susannah had you know, been involved in strange 'happenings'".

"There were others?", said Holmes, with a raised eyebrow. His total attention was on the girl now.

"Yes actually. There's been other incidents with other students. Lesser ones but incidents nonetheless. Like one time, a girl called Cynthia, she dipped Susannah's hair into her inkpot. All the girls laughed because it dripped down and ruined her new dress. When she found out what happened she turned in her seat and stared hard at Cynthia. And all of a sudden her pen exploded. Just like that. Ink was in her eyes and everything".

Holmes didn't really know what to make of these stories at present. There would clearly have to be an explanation for the strange events that surrounded the girl. Still, as intriguing as this information was, it wasn't bringing him any closer to the whereabouts of the girl.

"When is the last time you saw Susannah?"

"The night she was taken by that evil doctor… Ferdinand? I think that's his name"

"It is. What makes you say he is an evil man?"

There was a long pause in which Scarlett said nothing at all to Holmes, let alone move an inch. Then, in a mere whisper, she said, "You can just see it in his eyes".

"You know, even though you're really here to see me to get more information about another girl… I'm still glad you came tonight. It's nice to finally spend a night out with someone for once", she said as she straightened up, her eyes gazing into the dancing fire. "It really means a lot", she said, turning to smile at him.

The light of the flames danced across her skin, making her look softer. The music played on, the people danced on and the night grew that little bit older. "Since we're both here, maybe you'd like to have at least one dance?", Scarlett said, tucking some hair behind her ear nervously.

Holmes stood up, about to explain his reason why he'd _simply love_ to, but he had other things to attend to. However, with his hand out-stretched, Scarlett took this as a yes and laced her fingers with his and took him to the floor. Holmes mentally cursed himself and his habit for talking with his hands.

Holmes looked remarkably awkward standing amongst the other dancers, and he must have looked it too, because Scarlett started to giggle. "Here", she said, taking of his hands in hers and placing his other on her waist. And they began to dance. The music was fast paced and everyone was clapping and laughing. After a little while, Holmes forgot feeling awkward and moved in time with the music, and with Scarlett. He hadn't seen the girl smile so much.

Then, the music began to change.

The room seemed to fall darker, but the flames from the fires danced across everyone's skin. Illuminating each of them to the point they all appeared to be literally glowing. The dancing between persons grew more intimate as the music began to change into something more seductive sounding.

Holmes swayed with Scarlett but he couldn't for the life of him figure out what was going on. Everything felt strange, so heavy, like everything had been put into slow motion. A part of him tried to move to the door but there was too much blocking the way and his steps moved so slowly.

"Are you alright, Mr. Holmes?", Scarlett said, looking at him but he couldn't focus. Her skin looked alight from the dancing flames. He tried to open his mouth but no sound came out.

She took his hand and led him upstairs. There was dancing on each floor, but to Holmes it just look like swirls of colour. He just couldn't focus until the cold air from outside hit his face.  
It was quiet here; Scarlett had taken him outside to balcony.

"Here, lie down", she said motioning him over to an oversized fold-out recliner. He lay down. His head was spinning. He tried to remember what happened. But it was seemingly impossible. The night sky was filled with stars and they all seemed to be spinning. Scarlett's face came into view but he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He drifted away…

* * *

_Her skin smelled like sweet vanilla as she leant down to kiss him._

_It was dark around them but her, he could see clearly. As if all the light shone on only her. She sat up astride him her lips curved into a smirk at the corners. Her hair fanned around her face as he laced his fingers with hers and pulled her back down onto him._

_Her body shivered as he held her, running his fingers over her exposed skin. She moaned breathily into the kiss as she moved her hips against his. The friction was too much. Holmes was getting frustrated by the amount of clothing they still wore._

_He sat up, with her still astride him. She kissed his lips again and moved her hips._

"_Scarlett", he breathed, his hands moved to her back where he found the zip to her dress…_

"_Sherlock… think of me"_

* * *

"Holmes, what the… what the devil were you doing man?"

Holmes didn't open his eyes. His head felt heavy, like a brick was sliding around in there. His body ached, and he really wasn't in the right frame of mind to face Watson just yet.

"Holmes! Honestly, if my wife's friend hadn't told us you were here… do you even care about the fact your reputation could be severely tarnished because of this?"

"Oh your wife? How is she", said Holmes, struggling to sit up. His eyes opened and they were met by the harsh sunlight the day had bought in.

"She's fine. But you might not be. You know how women talk. This will get around"

"What are you talking about Watson?", Holmes said looking at the man who was pacing back and forth.  
"Take a look at your clothing, Holmes! It only takes one look to put two and two together you know".

He looked down. He was only half wearing his undershirt and pants but everything else was scattered around him on the balcony floor. He couldn't for the life of him remember how that came to be however.

"Get dressed. Unlike you, I've actually made some headway on the last known whereabouts of Miss Clark. Meaning she's a lot closer to us than first thought".

Without another word, Watson walked away leaving Holmes to pick up the pieces and get dressed. When he was done, he ruffled his hair a bit and made his way down through the bar. It was spotless and deserted as if what happened last night was just a dream.

"It couldn't have been though". He tried to remember what happened to Scarlett but he couldn't remember a thing, only small bits of information she told him last night before all that dancing.

As he got into the carriage with Watson that was waiting outside, he felt something in his pockets.  
It was a piece of paper.

'_**Think of me sometimes'**_

It was scrawled in a beautiful elegant script. He knew it must have been Scarlett's but there was something strange about the note. Something about it that didn't quite fit…

* * *

**There we go :)  
Quite a strange chapter I bet you're thinking but it is important to the rest of the story. I hope you enjoyed it. I'll do my best to update ASAP. Silly real life ruining the fictional world ;P**


	6. Note To Readers: Dates

**Notice:**

Sorry to interrupt the story but it has been bought to my attention that the dates in chapter three, are wrong. I'm really sorry about that. I wrote the chapter, 'Documents', late one night so I don't think I was paying much attention to the numbers. I don't know how to edit past chapters either D; But please just ignore those dates.

This is what it should be:

**Born: 1869  
Asylum Document Dates: 1883/1884  
Current Age 19: 1888**

The second thing I have here is that: **_people keep getting confused on the pairing of the story. _**However, that will be explained sooner than you think. Gotta keep you wondering ;P But yes, there is only one pairing in the story. Keep reading and you'll find out who =] But I know what I'm doing with that part, so I guess those who are confused have to keep patient, guessing and read on. Or stop reading ;P whatever floats your boat.

_**Thanks for reading so far!**_ And I hope that this clears up the matter for you all. Again, I'm really sorry but I'm not sure how to go back and re-edit chapters without deleting the whole thing. I am PC illiterate I know x).


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